Breakdown
by Demon Hiei's Girl
Summary: Matt's life was broken down into half-hearted schemes, lots of rushing around, and hidden motivation that could only be triggered by the one person who's ever meant something to him. MattxMello
1. Meeting

**Breakdown **

**By: **Melissa (I finally said, "Screw it." in regards for pen names. I hate all of mine.)

**Chapter One**

**Standard Disclaimers Apply**

**Author's Note: **Look at me attempt to write Matt and Mello. HA!

'_Italics are thoughts.'_

- - - - -

Matt stepped into the crowd as if it were his first time getting out of an airplane. He hated flying; he really did. It was long and boring and the food was never good... the list could go on and on, especially in regards to the awful flight movies that played, or his bad luck when it came to never, _ever_ getting a cute stewardess. Sometimes Matt felt like God just hated him or something. It sure seemed like that sometimes.

Regardless of Almighty Beings planning on smiting him further, the redhead made his way past the airport gates where more crowds awaited him, all waiting for their respective friends, families, or coworkers to get off the plane so they could greet them and whatever else people did in those situations.

Matt was never greeted by friends, family members, or coworkers because he never had any. Well, that wasn't _entirely _true. He did have one friend. A certain blond hellion with a chip on his shoulder the size of Antarctica and a bad attitude that would send Chuck Norris running to his mother. Well, maybe not Chuck Norris. But the point was made.

Not really paying attention, Matt glanced down at the plane ticket in his hand. "Destination: Los Angeles, California" was imprinted on it in bold letters, and it all but mesmerized Matt. As fun as flying here from New York was (or not, as the case were), he was happy to be off the giant metal craft the defied all common sense and flew through the air. If you had been in one big city, you had been in them all. Matt just wanted a beer and someplace to sit, in all honesty. He was tired and cranky, and really not in the mood, when suddenly two arms wrapped around his middle from behind.

In his self induced haze, at first he wasn't sure if he was getting assaulted or hugged, but in a matter of moments, it turned out to be the latter when a blond head poked out from behind him, a small smug smile playing on the delicate face he'd know anywhere despite how long it had been since he'd seen him.

"Did you miss me?" the coy voice asked, icy blue eyes meeting his own navy ones.

"Noooo, not at all!" Matt snickered, unable to stop the smirk turned smile that graced his features. Mello always had a way to unintentionally make his bad moods go away, even if it was Mello's fault he was in a bad mood to begin with.

Mello chose to ignore the obvious lie laced with lots of sarcasm, and stepped around to face a man he hadn't seen in person in about three years. Matt was dressed as casual as one could get, what with his black, short sleeved T-shirt, and ratty, holey blue jeans.

"Nice Chucks," Mello commented with a small smile, eyeing the redhead's shoes.

"Hey, they're cool!" Matt protested at the jab at his attire. "I'm not gonna take that from a dude in a belly shirt!"

As if suddenly self-conscious, Mello instinctively tugged at his leather vest a bit, trying to tug it down the last few inches to cover his exposed midriff. The vest wouldn't ever reach his waistline as tiny as it was, but the act was enough to make Matt smirk.

"You never mentioned any of your new fetishes on the phone," he grinned, making eye contact with the older man.

"You're just jealous you can't pull off leather as well as I can," was the curt reply, but Matt could hear the humor in the words. He knew Mello couldn't stay mad at him today. Maybe tomorrow, after he got used to having Matt around again, but not today. And same went for him. Just seeing that hair, those eyes... it was like he was at Wammy's again, goofing off with his best buddy. And he loved that feeling.

"Well, yeah," Matt agreed. "I don't have the legs like you do."

Mello rolled his eyes, letting the compliment-slash-jab soak in. He didn't mind if Matt thought he had nice legs.

"Or the hips for that matter," Matt added, crouching a bit as he stared at the red laces that held Mello's pants together. "You could pop out a baby no problem with those!"

Mello rolled the magazine Matt hadn't previously noticed he had and bopped him on the head with it.

"That's taking it too far!" Mello growled at him, a half-hearted, icy blue glare aimed in his direction. Whenever those piercing eyes were on him, the word 'winter' always came to mind. He wasn't sure why, it just did. Then again, when it came to Mello, his mind had a whole arsenal of words he related to him. Like "gorgeous" and "whack-job" and "nut-case". Mostly words like the latter, but a few words like the former always crept into his Mello-Thesaurus. Matt could honestly say he liked women– actually he didn't like men _at all– _but even the straightest guy had to admit Mello always had some sort of twisted, maniac, angelic kind of beauty about him.

A beauty Matt didn't think a guy should have, really, but Mello _did _and pulled off quite well. And now that he was older, that gorgeousness only increased tenfold. Matt couldn't help but poke fun at his old friend's figure just so he wouldn't feel really gay for staring at it so intensely.

"So, in all seriousness, how are we getting out of this awful crowd and where are we going?" Matt asked, standing up straight once more.

Mello chuckled a little bit as he tossed the magazine into the nearest trash can. "I forgot you hated crowded places."

"I hate people _period_," Matt snickered back. "I'm as anti-social as you get, trust me. I don't know how you can be such a people person. Honestly, nobody in Wammy's was social. No one but you."

Mello's small smile resurfaced. "It's not hard."

"For you, nothing's hard."

"Mm." Mello hummed in response, starting to head out of said crowd and towards the nearest parking lot.

"Hey, you never answered me," Matt continued on, jogging a bit to catch up to the blond.

Mello stopped in his tracks and turned to his companion who was less than a foot behind him. Point blank, he asked, "Matt, have you ever ridden in a limo?"

The question took Matt off guard, and he retorted in his normal dry tone, "I'm an orphan from England. What do you think?"

Mello's point blank expression slowly molded into a smug smirk. Matt began to realize where this was going, but posed the remark anyway, "Did that question have a point?"

"Follow me." was all that was said, but it was enough to get the redhead's curiosity peaked and he began to follow him.

- - - - - - -

Matt hadn't been joking when he said he'd never been in a limousine before. And had Mello asked, he would have guessed Mello never had either. Boy was he wrong. As the two sat quietly in the back of the long, black, intimidating limo, Matt couldn't help but fidget.

"It makes you feel important, huh?" Mello asked, still feeling rather smug it seemed, as he leaned back in his seat. Matt seemed hesitant to reply, and the blond seemed to take notice, and added, "Don't worry, the glass is sound proof." in regards to the only barrier between them and whoever the hell was driving.

"I didn't notice before, but..." Matt started, not really looking at Mello. "You have an American accent now." _'It's cute.'_

Mello's crystal blue orbs widened a bit at the observation. "Well, I have been here for quite a few years now. I had to pick it up to avoid unnecessary suspicion. It's not like it's anything new. You've always had this accent."

Matt made a face. "I'm American. What do you want from me?"

"Don't you think any outsider would think it's strange an orphan from England has an American accent?"

"I can't help it. Once you learn to pronounce everything a certain way, it becomes hard to just up and change. I mean, I didn't get to Winchester until I was seven, so that was seven years of good ol' American slang into my system before they threw me into an orphanage where 'Sod off' is an insult."

"I'm sure you prefer 'Fuck off' then?"

"Oh yes. That's the real way to piss off people you hate."

"Charming. You know, I up and changed my accent twice. It really isn't that hard," Mello said idly, as if looking for some more conversation.

"Twice?" Matt asked, interest peaked. Mello had been in the orphanage before he was, so Mello had always spoken to him in English with that British accent as far as he could remember.

"Oh, well, I lived in Germany before I came to Winchester, so..."

"_Germany?_ Hell if I knew that!" Matt blinked, partially mad at himself for raising his voice despite the supposed sound proof glass. "Ha, I should have figured from the blond hair and blue eyes. You're such a Hitler-baby."

"A what?" Mello asked, eyes narrowing into that familiar icy glare. The word 'winter' flitted through Matt's head again.

"Never mind. So what's up with you and this limo anyway? I mean, I know you mentioned the mafia on the phone, but I didn't think you were... you know, one of the big wigs."

Mello paused, as if trying to think of a way to explain it. "Well, I took out a mafia boss that escaped even under Kira's radar to get in with the group I'm in now."

"Took out?" Matt asked, mouth falling agape. "As in, you–?"

"I killed him."

Matt sunk a bit into his seat. It was hard to imagine the kid he used to play tag and soccer with during recess as a murderer. Mello eyed his stiffened body, but continued anyway. "I... well, I'm not really the boss per se. That'd be Rod Ross. Rod, he... likes me enough, I guess. So he doesn't mind giving me all the luxuries he would normally only get himself."

"...Are you sleeping with him?"

The question caught both of them off guard, and Matt felt his cheeks flush. _'I can't believe I just asked that!' _It was rude, and he knew it, but the curiosity overpowered his brain and went straight out his mouth.

"Of course not!" Mello growled out, flustered and angry. "It's nothing perverted!"

"Oh, Just asking, sheesh," Matt defended, but he really wasn't sure himself why he asked. It didn't matter.

"He thinks it's impossible for me to be wrong about anything. It's a nice feeling, but I'm just good at tailing people without them catching on. I use that to keep Rod well informed. Before I even joined the mafia, I had learned as much as I could about all his lackeys so I could rat them out to get in Rod's favor. My intelligence is his ace up the sleeve, if you will."

"Nice," Matt said, not really having anything to add. "So this mafia thing is working out then?"

"I think so. I think we're about to hit a breakthrough," Mello said, his tone sounding less agitated and more hopeful.

"Still out to get ahead of Near, are we?"

"Of course! Don't be stupid." Mello sneered at Matt. _'So that topic is still touchy with him. Fun stuff.' _Matt mentally groaned.

"Let me tell you about a thing we call the "Killer Notebook"."

- - - - - - -

Mello told Matt about L's findings on the Kira case, such as a couple suspects that were released after being "proven" innocent, a man named Higuchi who was arrested for being associated with Kira to help boost his company, Yotsuba, up the ranks and then later died on the scene, and the supposed killing weapon– a little black notebook.

"Wait, wait. You expect me to believe the Almighty God Kira kills people with writing utensils? Please, spare me."

Mello wasn't surprised by the outburst in the middle of his explanation. It was nothing new, really, when it came to Matt. Mello used to help Matt with his homework on a nearly nightly basis, and the redhead was not fond of learning, hearing boring things, or having to contemplate things that were beyond his comprehension. Sighing, Mello sat up on the hotel bed and rolled his eyes. "Did you expect his killings to be done in a human way? He didn't have to touch them and they'd keel over dead. It makes sense that it'd be some mystical form of murdering."

"'Makes sense' my ass! I always theorized it was a virus or something. I never stopped to consider the horrors of notebook paper," Matt replied dryly, obviously not amused by the discovery.

"Look, it's what L discovered, not me. And L was never wrong."

"Whatever you say, Mel, but he still died 'cause of this freak. Regardless of what Kira uses to off people, you should be careful."

"He only kills criminals."

"You are one!" Matt shouted, scrambling up from his position on the floor and onto the bed with his friend. Once he was successfully sitting across from his favorite blond hellion, he continued, "In case you didn't know, the mafia's little dealings of organized crime is illegal!"

"Kira won't kill me," Mello said confidently, lounging more onto the stiff hotel pillows.

"That's what L thought," Matt pressed on, not wanting to let this go. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Mello said cooly, shrugging the comment off as he checked his watch. "Well it's about that time. I should probably be heading back to headquarters before Rod starts calling me and complaining."

Matt tried to hide his disappointment of being dumped alone in a hotel (nice as it was). "Why would he nag you?"

"He likes having me around 24/7. I do the thinking for him, and he knows he can trust me to do the job right. He doesn't make any decisions unless I'm there, so he needs me."

"A little too much."

"Please." Mello hopped off the bed and began to put on and tie his combat boots. "Besides, you have my number. If you need me, just call. I'm not that far away."

"Well what do you want me to do for the time being?" Matt asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you needed my help for something. That's why you flew my ass down here."

"I do," Mello said simply, all ready half way across the room, hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to need you to help me hack into the government's system so I can... borrow a missile."

"A _missile_?" Matt gasped, the word almost choking him. "Are you fucking serious?"

Mello just gave him a half-crazy smirk and a small wave as he ducked out the door.

"Bastard..." Matt mumbled once said bastard was out of earshot. "What the fuck is he thinking?"

- - - - - - -

**Author's Note: **And so, that's the end of chapter one. Hopefully the plot will pick up a bit faster in chapter two. But that's the way introductions go, I guess. Review peeps!


	2. Calls

**Breakdown**

**By: **Melissa

**Chapter Two**

**Standard Disclaimers Apply**

**Author's Note: **My parents got pissed at me and took away my internet to "punish" me like I'm a child. So I basically now have nothing better to do than work on fanfiction. XD So here's an update. Haha.

**Clarification: **I forgot to add, everything that isn't explained outright by the DN anime, manga, or HTR volume 13, I'm making up. Such as Matt being American, Mello being German, Matt having red hair and blue eyes, bla bla. I didn't really have much to work with, Matt especially, so all this is pretty much just what I like. XD I'm surprised I haven't been lynched yet for getting rid of their British accents, haha.

- - - - - -

Matt hated being bored. To him, it was the worst feeling in the world. He'd rather be starving on the streets, living in a box in an abandoned alley way, fighting with stray cats over scraps of food instead of sitting still and doing nothing because honestly at least that was interesting. Just standing around really grated on his nerves, and all he could do at the moment was watch TV. And unless there was a game console hooked up to said TV, Matt couldn't stand television. It was loud and annoying and far from entertaining. It had always been like that, but even more so since Kira became popular. Now he had to hear about that God-Wannabe on speciality channels and even the news.

He had tried to watch three separate channels that night as a way to try and entertain himself, but all three times Kira was mentioned in a positive light– even on the sitcom he attempted to sit through. Effectively pissed off, he turned the damned thing off and jumped on his oversized hotel bed. Part of him wanted to sleep, being so drained and all from the flight, but he knew he couldn't. He had slept in most of the previous day after Mello abandoned him, but mostly because he was so worked up over their brief discussion of missiles that he didn't fall asleep well into dawn, and thus slept in til about 4pm.

Now he had nothing better to do but sit still in his hotel room like a good little boy.

Matt had never in his life been a good little boy.

He never even faked it.

The worst part was, the baggage that had all his game systems he brought with him on the plane ride was "lost". All he had with him was his PSP and one game– which would have sufficed to ease his boredom– but the battery died shortly before he got to the hotel with Mello in the limo. And the charger was in the lost luggage.

Matt wasn't sure he could survive under these conditions. Luckily, his phone started buzzing, giving him something to do. _'Mello?' _he silently hoped, having not heard from the man since he disappeared the night previous after generously renting him a hotel room, but still leaving him to his bored lonesome.

"Yo," Matt said, picking up his cell not even bothering to check the caller I.D.

"Hey Matt!" said a chipper voice on the other end. _'Definitely not Mello.'_

"Linda?" Matt had really only kept in contact with the brunette artist after he left Wammy's. He really didn't have that many friends there, and Linda was good at keeping in touch with everybody. It wasn't until a year or so later when he was on his own did he start talking to Mello again. How the blond got his number, he had no idea.

"Yeah, silly. I wanted to know where you lived."

"Where I... live?" Matt asked, confused.

"Well, I know you live in New York now. But I wanted to know specifically. I'm flying in from England for the next two weeks so I can display my art in a museum down there that offered to show my gallery. I thought maybe you'd like to meet up," the girl explained, sounding rather excited. Matt wasn't sure if it was because she wanted to see him, or if it was because her gallery was being shown in America since it had yet to be displayed outside of England.

"Um, actually I'm in LA right now..." Matt trailed off vaguely, scratching his messy red hair a bit in embarrassment.

"LA? As in, Los Angeles?" Linda asked, sounding strangely disappointed. "You're all the way in California? When did you move?"

"I... just yesterday. And I'm not sure this is permanent yet..."

"What do you mean?" Linda asked, sounding genuinely confused for a genius from Wammy's. "How could you move so far away from your home and not be sure if you're staying there permanently or not?" When Matt didn't answer, she continued to scold, "Who does that kind of thing on a whim!?"

The silence was awkward for a good two minutes, because Matt honestly wasn't sure what to say to her.

"It's Mello, isn't it?"

Matt was so deep in thought trying to think of a good lie or excuse, he almost didn't catch the soft voice on the other end. "Pardon?" He felt himself gulping; he wasn't sure if Mello wanted him to blab to anyone from Wammy's that they were working together.

"Why else would you fly across the country just because?" she asked, her British accent suddenly seeming so foreign to his ears despite having grown up with it constantly around him.

"I never said it was Mello's doing," Matt clarified vaguely. He could feel that his vagueness was starting to irritate the normally chipper girl.

"You might as well have. No one else has the ability to motivate you the way he can. He's very good at manipulating people to get what he wants."

Matt hated himself for feeling special at the thought that Mello wanted him.

"Maybe I just wanted to get somewhere warm. California is gorgeous," Matt said, relaxing a bit on the hotel sofa.

"Warm weather means nothing to a hermit like you!" Linda sighed, sounding defeated. "Only Mello has ever been able to get you off your arse. Well, if you're working together that means he's alive and safe... for now. That's a bit comforting since no one really knew what happened to him after he just up and left."

Matt wasn't happy with the memory of when Mello left the orphanage on that rainy day so long ago, so he didn't comment on it. "I never said we were working together. I never even brought up Mello. What makes you so sure I know anything about him? He didn't tell me anything either. What makes you so sure I'd want to even help him after he just abandoned us all that way?" Matt was surprised at himself for coming up with a convincing argument despite that she had hit the nail on the head. He was also surprised at how bitter he sounded about the issue. Yeah, it had hurt. So why _did _he agree to this?

"You never had a problem forgiving him, Matt. That's nothing new."

"Doesn't explain why he'd even want my help in the first place."

"Well obviously he likes you!" Linda exclaimed. Matt could practically see her rolling her eyes with her free hand on her hip.

"Well duh, we've been best friends since we were nine. I would hope he likes me," Matt threw back at her, like the detail wasn't important.

"No, I mean he— "

She was cut off when Matt's phone started beeping at him, informing him someone else was trying to call him. This time he glanced at the caller I.D. _'Speak of the Devil...'_

"Sorry Linda, someone's trying to call me. I'll have to call you back." He hung up before she could protest.

"Hello?" Matt said, kind of glad to get the nag off his back. He liked Linda, but _damn_.

"So you _are _awake." Came the dry response laced with annoyance.

"What's that supposed to mean? Who crashes at 7:30?" Matt retorted, rolling his eyes. "I'll have you know I'm a bit of a night owl."

"I know. I meant, I'm surprised you didn't sleep in more, knowing you."

"Hey! I'd never sleep in until this late!" _'I did sleep in, but he doesn't need to know. Ass.'_

"In that case, sorry for taking so long to call. I've been busy. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing really," Matt answered honestly. "I don't know the area and I don't really have a car."

"You never go out," Mello snorted. "Play a video game."

"I would, but the bastards conveniently only lost my bag with my game systems. Except my PSP, but the battery's dead and the charger's in the lost luggage."

"You never told me you lost anything."

"I really didn't notice til I started to unpack." Matt felt slightly embarrassed. Under no other circumstance would he realize his most important luggage was missing. Video games meant everything to him, but he was so excited at getting to see Mello face to face again he just kind of forgot. _'Now I'm paying for it.'_

"That sucks," Mello replied, sounding preoccupied. Matt could hear the sounds of keyboard keys being tapped at furiously. "Have you eaten?"

"...not really."

"Well, let me just make a quick stop really fast then I'll come straight to the hotel. We can go out to dinner."

"That's awfully romantic, Mel," Matt snickered. "I don't know what I'll wear."

"Actually I wanted to sit your lazy ass down and feed you so you wouldn't be distracted when I briefed you on what you need to do."

Matt had no doubts that Mello heard the groan despite the questionable connection from their cell phones.

- - - - - -

Despite his earlier wise crack, Matt found himself digging through his closet in attempt to find something suitable. It wasn't that he cared whether or not he looked like a bum to the people of LA, but he really hadn't put on any pants since he crashed the previous night. And listening to Mello bitch at him for not being ready when he got there was not something he was in the mood for. Finally settling on just some good old fashioned blue jeans and one of his favorite striped shirts, Matt declared himself unofficially presentable. Unofficially because he knew if Mello complained, he'd have no choice but to change again.

Hearing the knock at the door, Matt ran to unlock it, finding himself once again face to face with the blond. This time, instead of wearing jeans with boots overtop the bottom of his pants, he had leather pants that matched his vest with red crosses over the kneecaps.

"You _really _have a thing for leather, don't you?"

Mello gave him one of his angry/annoyed expressions that Matt had grown accustomed to over the years of their childhood.

"Well, I don't normally give presents to people who make fun of me," Mello said calmly, fixing his expression to a blank slate.

"Presents?" Matt asked, taking the bait. Mello threw a bag at him, and Matt caught it, instantly recognizing the "GameStop" logo. Opening it up hastily he found himself face to face with a brand new PSP. His navy eyes roamed the box excitedly. His current one was so used that the scratches made the screen hard to read. And were those... They were! New games at the bottom! He could feel himself drooling.

"I was just going to get you a charger, but fuck if I know anything about video games. So I just got a whole new one. I figured they came with a charger."

"They do..." Matt said admiring the ten or so new games he had to play now. _'So was this his quick stop? So he was listening to me then.' _"Thanks so much!"

"Yeah, no prob. So can we go now?" Mello asked, a hint of a smirk on his features. Matt returned the smirk. "Yeah."

- - - - - - - -

**Author's Note: **Sorry this was such a short chapter. I fail at life. Anyways, I'll try to make the next chapter longer. XD My ADD just goes off sometimes and I get too distracted to write.


	3. Plans

**Breakdown**

**By: **Melissa

**Chapter Three**

**Standard Disclaimers Apply**

**Author's Note:** I was told that this fic is funny and a relief from all the ANGST ANGST ANGST that normally accompanies the MxM fandom. And that made me smile. :)

- - - - - - - -

Matt, so awed at the rare occurrence of Mello being generous, decided to throw his apathy to the wind and behave once they got to the restaurant. To his surprise, though it shouldn't have been, the restaurant was kind of on the fancy side. A sit down place for sure. _'So he wasn't kidding when he said he was going to sit me down so he could preach about his plans...' _Matt thought idly as the waitress seated them.

"Order whatever you want," Mello instructed. "I'm paying."

"You know, I did bring money with me. Sheesh," Matt replied, leaning back in the chair as he stretched, nearly bonking heads with the lady seated behind him.

"I take it from your amazing manners that you don't eat at places like this often. Trust me, this place is expensive and I'm loaded. Just let me take care of it."

Matt opened his mouth to voice his opinion on basically being called socially inept at "fancy" restaurants, but refrained. He really was more of a McDonald's person anyway. "I gotta say, as tempting as a free meal is... not to mention dining with the _oh so important_, and let's not forget, _loaded _Mello, I must say I am ...uh, a little on the anxious side to hear what it is you're about to throw at me."

"I all ready told you, I need for you to hack me a mis– "

"Yeah yeah, I know. Missiles, right." Matt interrupted because the thought was still ludicrous to him. "How'd you even know I was hacker to begin with?"

"Believe it or not, one of my guys heard about you through word of mouth," Mello replied calmly, being careful to keep his voice down in case anyone was listening. "Damn, I really should have told that guy to get us a table away from all these fucking people."

"Don't worry," Matt continued in a hushed tone. "That bitch with her old ass husband behind me are the only ones directly near us. As soon as their done shoving food in their fat-ass faces, we can talk."

Mello tried to hold back the slight hint of amusement that suddenly graced his features. He was somewhat pleasantly surprised at Matt's ability to talk trash about people in such a friendly, casual tone that unless anyone was actually paying attention to the words being spoken, it would be impossible to tell that the content of the speech was inappropriate.

Once "that bitch" finished her meal along with her "old ass husband", they paid and left, leaving Mello to get to business. "So about this job– "

"Wait wait, I haven't agreed to anything yet," Matt interrupted. "I'm still trying to figure out how you got a hold of me in the first place."

"Bothering you?"

"Like you wouldn't fucking believe."

Mello let out an irritated sigh. "Fine. The Mafia's hacker, Jack , basically sucks. But he had heard about a really good hacker from one of his own shady contacts. When he told me about it in more detail, the style seemed... familiar. Very "Matt", if you will. I had him have one of his contacts contact you for a hacking job, to test your skill. And according to Jack's little buddy, you passed with flying colors. I had him snag your number for me."

"So, you tested me without me knowing it? You have no idea how much that grinds my beans."

"'Grinds your beans', huh?"

"Grinds my motherfucking beans, Mello."

The two sat in silence for a moment, both half heartedly glaring the other down. The two's quiet battle was interrupted when the waitress brought their meals and put them on the table. Matt thanked the woman, not really trying to hide the fact that he was checking her out, as Mello gave a curt nod of appreciation. After Matt began sampling some of the outrageously priced, but amazingly great tasting food, Mello did the same and found himself talkative again.

"Are you not interested in helping me?"

"Why wouldn't I be interested? I'd be avenging L and kicking Kira's God-Wannabe ass. Sounds like a good deal to me."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to avenge L or defeat Kira. I asked if you didn't want to help me. There _is_ a difference. You could attempt to accomplish those goals on your own, you know." Matt didn't particularly like the tone of voice Mello used as he said that. The blond tried to cover it up, but Matt heard the slight hint of hurt/betrayal in the words.

"Okay, you caught me. I didn't fly out here from New York to avenge L or defeat Kira. I'm here because you called and asked me to come. Happy?" Matt said between mouthfuls of chicken breast.

"Not at all," Mello replied icily, setting down his eating utensils and taking a sip of whatever-the-hell he was drinking. (Matt didn't really pay attention. He was good at spotting details, but they still bored him.) "You're a liar."

"I'm not lying!" Matt defended, trying his best to stop himself from raising his voice. "You think I fly across the country for just anybody? Fuck no. I just--" _'...am really embarrassed to say that maybe I took this job so I could see you again.'_

When Matt finished his sentence inside his head but not out loud, Mello prodded, "Just...?"

"Never mind."

The two sat in silence again, quietly eating and pointedly avoiding making eye contact. Being quiet was boring, though, and Matt hating being bored. Deciding to be the bigger man, he decided to keep the awkward conversation going. "Why me?"

"You're a good hacker, and my current hacker sucks. Duh. We've been through this."

"No. You said that your sucky current hacker heard about me, and you recognized it as me, so had him test me. Then you called me. You weren't looking for a new hacker. You were looking for me. And I want to know why."

"And our teachers thought you wouldn't make a good detective," Mello scoffed, annoyed at being contradicted. "Okay, fine. Maybe I was looking for you. But it's not like I was on some lifelong search or anything. Jack practically dangled your existence in this country in front of my face, and I took the bait."

"Yeah yeah, I got all that, damn it. But I want to know why you fucking wanted to drag me back into your life when you didn't have to!" Matt prodded, the anger rising in his voice. He mentally scolded himself to stop raising his voice or else he'd attract unwanted attention.

"A job is a job. What does it matter "why"?" Mello glared, getting more and more frustrated. "I do intend on paying you if you accept, you know."

"I don't care about money. I care about you! Fucker!" Matt spat before he could stop himself. Mello stared at him with wide blue eyes for countless seconds, and Matt felt his breathing hitch. Forcing himself to calm down and resume a normal tone, he continued, "I am not about to take this job and get close to you again, bastard. You strolled out of my life once without even giving two fucks before. How can I be sure you won't do it again?"

"Our teachers always told us to be careful when making 'friends', 'acquaintances', 'partners', and 'allies'. They can always stab you in the back when you're least expecting it, 'cause they're with you when your guard is down," Mello replied, cooly, the glare evident in his sky colored gaze. 'Winter' dashed through Matt's mind for the umpteenth time, but this winter was the coldest, most brutal, blizzard induced winter his mind ever related to.

"So you're saying you will run away again when the going gets tough? Well then, I guess you know my answer then."

"I'm not asking to be your friend. I'm asking you to be my partner," Mello scoffed out, crossing his arms and looking out the window as a family of five exited the facility and headed towards the parking lot.

"And I'm asking you not to be a shit-head. And really, it's not that hard. Whether you want to accept it or not, we're friends. Not "we were" friends. We "are" friends. Your lackeys may do anything you say without batting an eye, but I'm no fucking lackey. And I flew across this damn country anyway to help you out. Because we're _friends_. If you're asking me to be one of your little Mafia man-servants, the answer is no. If you're asking me as a friend to do you a favor and help you out, the answer is yes. So, which is it?"

Mello stared at him for five long minutes– the longest currently to date of Matt's life– and then looked down. "You know the answer to that," he mumbled quietly.

Matt sighed, and leaned back in his chair again, looking out the window himself. "I knew you would look for me eventually. ...okay, I hoped you would. That's why I put some of my...style into the work I did. I figured someone as bright as you would come across it if you were looking hard enough."

"I did need a new hacker for this job, but I didn't think I'd come across you. I mean, I knew you were good with computers, and I had considered looking into it, but I didn't think you left England. But when I found out you were so close doing just the job I needed... it was almost too perfect." Mello admitted, still not making eye contact.

"Yeah, yeah. I missed you too, all right? That's why I'm here in this God-awful heat."

"Your own fault. Who wears long sleeves in California?"

"Morons, but you need this moron's help. So brief me all ready. This beating around the bush bullshit is starting to--"

"I know, I know. Grind your beans. Let's get to it then."

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Mm hm, right. Anyways, I need you to hack a missile for me. Shouldn't be too hard for a genius from Wammy's."

"Ha!" Matt snickered darkly, taking a sip of his soda. "Sounds illegal. But you know what they say, good detectives make the best criminals."

Mello gave a hesitant smile. It seemed like he was still getting used to being addressed as a criminal. After all, Wammy's taught them that they were going to be detectives– crusaders for good and justice in a world of evil and criminal activity. Then again, neither of them followed Wammy's rules all that well. In fact, most of the time they were breaking Wammy's rules, Matt following Mello's lead. And here they were. Mello leading again, this time breaking laws instead of rules with punishments worse than spankings and no dessert.

And maybe Matt was stupid, but for a brief second, it seemed worth it. When Mello left, he didn't think he'd see him again. And if a crazy murderer who thought he was God was what it took to get Mello to need him –rely on him– again like when they were younger, maybe (he was ashamed to admit) a bit thankful to Kira.

"There's a missile in a barren area near the border of California. It's practically a desert. Anyways, the missile is underground. It can be launched by computer provided the government puts in the correct access key. It exists only for emergencies related to the United States, but we're going to borrow it. What I need you to do is hack into the government's computers and get the access key, and change it so only we can launch it. I also need you to make it possible for us to launch it from Jack's laptop, if you can." Mello explained, his face more serious than Matt had seen since he arrived in LA.

"Why a missile? What are you planning that needs a missile?" Matt asked, unable to stop his mouth from going agape.

"It can't be tracked by radar. It can't be traced or shot down. And we can reprogram the missile to be guided anywhere we want. It's perfect."

"You're explaining this but it's all very vague. My beans are all ground up now, so I'm out of patience," Matt muttered, crossing his arms as well.

"The notebook. I'm going to get the notebook first, before Near. If it kills me. I've got a plan, Matt. I've thought about it long and fucking hard, and there's no way it will fail. About 500 meters from the underground missile launching site there's another underground area that used to be used by some syndicate a few years back. My men are modifying it as we speak so I can get the notebook handed to me down there."

"Who's going to 'just hand you' the fucking notebook?" Matt asked, clutching his fork with a little more force than necessary.

"The Japanese NPA when they find out we captured their director," Mello mused, a smirk crossing his face.

"Y-you kidnapped the..."

"Not yet. But the arrangements have been made so that we can once the time comes."

Matt let the information sink in. He was about to become an accomplice in a kidnapping. Fun stuff.

- - - - - -

**Author's Note: **Short chapter is short. But damn, Mello's plans are so intricate and hard to explain in dialog. Whew. Anyways, review peeps. I need the encouragement to get off my lazy ass.


	4. Bar

**Breakdown**

**By: **Melissa

**Chapter Four**

**Standard Disclaimers Apply**

**Author's Note: **This chapter is dedicated to _Spirit _like most of my fics. But she'll see why when she gets to the end. ;) Oh yeah, and this new ffnet is spiffy looking, but damn. Now I have to re-learn how to upload shit!

- - - - - - - -

Hacking into the government's computers and bypassing all their firewalls to get an access code to control a hidden missile in some dessert near California ended up being easier than Matt thought. He was taking his time to make sure he made no mistakes, sure, but he felt like his custom made bugs would get passed all the firewalls without alerting anyone related to the United State's government that anything was wrong by the end of the week. Once that was done, all he had to do was find the file with the code and change it. ...then there was the matter of locking the new code so no one could access it or change it back, and then set up Jack's laptop so he could control the missile from any base Mello's mafia chose to reside in. _'I wonder if Mello wants me to make the new path for the missile or if he wants Jack to do it...' _Matt thought idly as he typed on his laptop, checking his email. His actual computer was working it's hard drive off trying to get passed government firewalls, after all.

Linda had sent him a couple angry emails expressing concern for his well being and hate for not calling her back the past seven times she tried reaching him. He replied to them, answering the majority of her questions with the truth, but avoiding all her questions and comments about Mello entirely. The last thing he wanted was for Roger to somehow learn about what Mello had been up to since Wammy's House had last seen him.

Lying (well it wasn't quite lying when you ignored the questions you'd have to lie about, right?) to a childhood friend made Matt feel rather dirty, but he decided it was something he'd have to get over fast. He had a feeling that if he stuck with Mello, he'd only feel grimier and grimier by the time this thing was over.

Matt rolled his eyes as the area near his crotch began vibrating. Uncrossing his legs and pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, the redhead checked his recently acquired text.

'Guys going 2 bar. Wanna cum?'

The redhead almost commented on Mello's laziness when it came to spelling and grammar when he texted, and of course the implications of what he just technically asked, but decided he'd let it go for now. Especially since a beer sounded good right around now, and he didn't want the blond to uninvite him. Matt could only imagine how scary it must be for normal people to just go to a bar for shits and giggles and then see the fucking _mafia_ just happened to be chilling there at that exact same time. '_All_ the guys?' was his response.

'No just some. Rod, Glen, and Rashual.'

'_Oh, he can spell out "Rashual" but not "come".' _Matt rolled his eyes. Glen and Rashual were Rod's right hand men, so (along with Mello) they accompanied the big man everywhere. Matt only had the pleasure of seeing those two once, and only because he tailed Mello out of sheer boredom when the blond left the hotel room one time. They were big, burly, and scary. And if Matt could humbly add his opinion to the matter, ugly as fuck to boot.

'Fine, I'll come.' Matt replied, more so for the drink he planned on having when he got there than anything else. And to properly spell the word 'come' via text message just to show that he was less lazy than Mello when he felt like it.

'Good. I'll send you directions.'

Matt wondered as Mello sent him the address of the bar he was supposed to meet him at if Mello was planning on actually speaking to him once he arrived. That would mean being introduced to Rod Ross, the big boss of Mello's shady little group. Matt wasn't so sure he was fond of this plan, but decided whatever. Mello wouldn't have his ogre of a boss kill him off yet. He still wasn't one hundred percent done with securing the missile for them, after all. And the blond _had_ claimed it was a crucial part of his scheme.

Above all else, the curiosity that came with most child geniuses made Matt want to see the puppet to Mello's puppeteer.

- - - - - - - - -

As expected, the bar was a very nice joint. It was spacious, somewhat quiet with soft music playing in the background, and so far no thugs in sight. Matt figured they probably weren't there yet, if that was the case. Part of him was relieved. He really wasn't in the mood to be on the opposite end of this rumored Rod Ross' gun. _Especially _with how possessive the man was of Mello. _'Well, whatever...' _Matt mentally added. _'He wouldn't off someone Mello likes if that's the case. I'm safe. ...probably. ...not. Ugh. Well, no... Mello wouldn't suggest me coming here if he thought I would be in danger. Unless he's mad at me. But I didn't _do_ anything!'_

Matt stood shock still for a moment. _'But since when did Mello need a reason?' _Matt felt like he was going to puke. Luckily, a distraction came in the form of some other bar-dwellers. Two guys with dark hair were sitting across from each other in a booth near the window. Suddenly, the taller of the two crawled under the table and popped up on the shorter's side of the booth. The taller began to, from what Matt could gather from the distance he was at, grope the shorter one.

"Knock it off, you pervert." he heard the shorter one with spiky black hair say, trying to push the slightly taller man away from him.

"No way, not when you're turning red like that!"

"Ugh, I hate you. So fucking much."

"And I hate you for not fucking me much... or at all."

Matt winced at the horribly composed sentence, being a genius from an institute that was tailored to help improve and expand the high IQs of highly intelligent children, and that included the mastering of the English language.

"_Both of ya, shut the hell up!" _shouted a gruff voice that shocked the two teens and Matt out of their thoughts. Matt felt rude for listening in, but he wasn't the only one. The parties by the window were causing quite the scene. Behind the two boys in the next booth was a tall, white haired man who appeared to be about thirty years old, with a shorter, pink haired woman resting her head on his chest. Matt thought the girl was quite hot despite her shorter stature. She couldn't have been more than four feet tall.

"Fucking queers. I'm trying to have a romantic night with my wife here!" the tall man said icily, glaring at the two raven haired boys no more than a couple of feet away. _'Nix that thought.' _Matt added, not wanting to be checking out another guy's wife. That would only end in tears– probably his, if he tried to take on that muscle-bound man for his woman. The white haired man's size and build didn't seem to faze the other occupants in the booth in front of his, since they just looked at each other, nodded, then picked up their beers and splashed it in his face. The two then took off running, and the white haired man was too busy trying to clean up his wife who got caught in the beer splash to chase them down.

Matt felt sorry for them, but at the same time, he couldn't help but snicker at the predicament. The two dark haired boys seemed so _in tune _with each other. They had probably been friends for a long time. The redhead scratched his head as the memories of his and Mello's prankster days back at Wammy's House flooded him. He had no doubt that had someone in the same establishment had accused them like that (even if they were in the wrong), they would have probably schemed something similar and then made a break for it.

The thought suddenly made Matt freeze again, the smirk wiping off his face. For one, Mello and him hadn't talked in person for quite some time. Would Mello really be willing to joke around like that now that he had such a big, "scary" mafia image? And that thought was only half as troubling as Matt's other inner inquiry at why the hell he was comparing himself and Mello to two gay guys he just stumbled on in a bar. That was messed up! If Mello knew he was thinking things like that, there would be a gun to his temple. And probably not even the dignity of Mello's gun either. It'd most likely be _Rod's. _And that was a scary-ass thought.

"Good, you made it," said a familiar voice as a gloved hand rested on Matt's shoulder. Despite himself, he jumped a bit with the start of a strangled shriek caught in his throat. Mello gave him a weird look as he walked in front of his partner, looking him up and down. "What are you so freaked out about?"

"Nothin', nothin'." Matt shook his head, attempting his normal crooked smile, but failing miserably.

"Man, it sure is quiet in here," Mello mused, seeming to be satisfied with Matt's answer.

"It seems like a quiet place."

"Well it is, but when I was walking in, these two dark haired guys were rushing out of here like their asses were on fire. I thought something was up."

"Oh? Yeah, I saw the whole thing. Those two homos were getting a little too friendly in their booth, so that big guy over there threatened 'em. They threw beer at him and took off, but I guess they weren't worth his time."

"If you think that guy's big, wait til you meet Rod," Mello said, measuring the white haired man with his eyes. Matt could feel himself pale.

"So I _am_ going to meet him then?" he tried to sound cocky, but it came out sounding nervous instead.

"Well yeah. I thought you should get credit from the big-wig of this operation since you're doing the hard part."

"Please, you're the real big-wig of this operation, Mel."

Mello risked a small smile. "Maybe, but he doesn't need to know that." Matt felt himself smiling himself at one of Mello's rare moments of no-screaming, when suddenly he was once again faced with Mello's classic, wintery glare. "Hey wait a minute, what's your problem with homos anyway?"

"Nothing!" Matt suddenly defended, jerking upright. "I was just calling them as I saw them!"

"Yeah right."

"Since when were you a Gay-rights activist?"

"I'm not! It's just...rude."

"Rude? Coming from you, man, that's hilarious."

"You're an ass."

"Don't say that, Mels, you'll hurt the donkeys' feelings."

"'Mels'? Who's the homo now?" Mello half-laughed, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't call _you _a homo. I said you were acting like an activist. But I don't think the gays want the support of a Mafia type criminal." Matt replied, smirk in place as he poked Mello's upper arm. The mirth left Mello's eyes as soon as 'criminal' escaped Matt's lips, and he looked down. Noticing, the redhead confirmed to himself that Mello _did _indeed feel some guilt about the way he was going about doing things.

"Sorry," he said, poking the blond's arm again. "I was just teasing. So when am I going to get introduced to this big, scary Mafia don of yours?"

Mello shrugged in response. "I left early so I could get here first and tell you to brace yourself for it. Rod's not a particularly happy guy."

"I figured."

"Just behave. And cut the dry sarcasm; it'll only piss him off. And that's something you don't want, believe me." Mello continued, a very serious look on his face. Matt didn't want to show fear to his best friend, so quickly turned away from the hardened blue orbs.

"If I slip, we'll you get me out of it?" he added weakly in a teasing voice, forcing himself to smile a little. Mello did the same after rolling his eyes.

"I'll see what I can do."

- - - - - - -

**Author's Note: **Is it just me or are these chapters getting shorter? Sorry for such a crappy update, but since it took me so long to get off my ass and finish, I thought I'd hurry up and post. Oh and it's pretty obvious, but there's a cameo of my YYH oneshot "Without Complications" in here that I wrote for Spirit ages ago. A little surprise/thank you to her for reading my DN fic even though she's not super big in the fandom. I love you, girl!


End file.
